Courting

My mother Wenonah said that she and my father Don didn’t start dating each other exclusively at first, but they would go places together in a group. There were a lot of things to do in Oklahoma City in those days: movies, of course, and dances, picnics, and there was an amusement park out at Spring Lake. Late in the summer the watermelons would get ripe in Rush Springs and watermelon stands would be set up in parks. The farmers would set up a big cooler with ice in the park and you could buy a slice and eat it at one of the tables set up in the park.  

There was a pavilion out at Spring Lake Park, and they had dances there, outside. I don’t even know what’s left of Spring Lake now. When I was little you could swim in the lake, and there was an amusement park. Now swimming in the lake wouldn’t meet the health regulations, and the amusement park is gone too. I think they have a zoo and a golf course there now. Anyway, Wenonah said that nationally famous big bands would come and play there when she and Don were dating: Tommy Dorsey, Benny Goodman, Guy Lombardo, and others. 

Wenonah was a member of two organizations, and they both had parties. One was called the India-Okla Club. All of the prominent Indian leaders in the state were members: The Chickasaw and Choctaw governors and several men like my Uncle Homer, who were members of the state legislature. Wenonah was the program chairman, and she arranged for my cousin Lahoma to dance at one of the meetings. 

The other group that Wenonah joined during that time was the Beta Sigma Phi businesswomen’s sorority. I know they had dances because Wenonah saved her dance book from one of their functions. For each dance she would write down whom she danced with. When she danced with Don she would just write “us.” 

In the winter my parents went ice skating on Shepherd’s Pond, as it was called then. The Shepherd family owned a large piece of land  on the edge of town – now it’s in the middle of town, the pond has been filled in, and a shopping center called Shepherd’s Mall has been built there. 

I’ve been writing a book about my Wenonah’s life, and I don’t want to give the plot away, but she lived through a terrible tragedy when she was 15 that turned her against her father, and the experience affected her attitude towards men, or at least towards relationships with men. She told me that it was a big surprise to her family when she told them she intended to marry Don. 

It wasn’t an easy journey though. They went together for three years before Wenonah said yes. My dad was always patient. 

He got jealous one time when Wenonah danced with another man, and she told him that her father was jealous of her mother and that she wouldn't tolerate it, so he gave in. Another time my dad was drinking and Wenonah thought he had had too much, so she told him that her father had been an alcoholic and that she couldn't tolerate drinking. That's something she told me too. "You can have just as much fun sober as you can drunk," she said. Anyway, my dad stopped drinking altogether. Many years later, after they had both retired, they used to have a glass of wine together at bed time, but I can’t remember ever seeing my father drink hard liquor.  

                      

Notes From Oklahoma

This post comes from Oklahoma, where we are now, visiting. We’re staying in my mother Wenonah’s house in Oklahoma City. It’s so peaceful here by the lake. We brought more furniture and arranged for TV and internet service so we don’t feel so isolated. It’s sad to be here where my mother spent so much time, I also feel closer to her here, and there’s some comfort to that. I can still see her sitting there by the window, listening to the radio and looking out at the birds and squirrels playing in the trees.

 

 

We made a trip to Ada, visited with my daughter and her family there, and also with other family and friends, and we visited the Chickasaw Nation headquarters.

 

It’s hot here, not the dry Colorado heat that we’re used to, but a humid heat that weighs on you like heavy blanket. I’ve been running a couple of times though, and it wasn’t too bad. The air is cool, and there’s more oxygen in the air here. That kind of makes up for the humidity.

 

We spent a quiet 4^th of July watching TV, but one item in the news reminded me of one of Pauls Valley’s claims to fame, the host to the International Championship Watermelon Seed Spitting Championships. I remember visiting Pauls Valley as a boy, and getting instructions from my cousin Phillip on the fine points of watermelon seed spitting.  

 

This year contestants travelled from as far away as Oklahoma City to compete, but the  championship was won by Darren Jennings, a Pauls Valley native, with a winning spit measuring over 34 feet.  

 

Don Meets Wenonah

Don’s last year at OU was hectic. He was working nights at Peppers, commuting to Norman during the days for his accounting classes, and spending what little time that was left to study.  

Don enjoyed the other guys he worked with at the plant. There was Charley Kopp, Tom Pierce, Bill Beebe and Bud Bickford. They did their best to make a dangerous, boring job bearable. They all teased Beebe about breaking glassware in the lab. It seemed that no matter how careful he was he’d drop a flask or pipette or something, and of course everything he broke came out of his pay check at the end of the month. Finally one day he got so disgusted with himself that he threw a monkey wrench on the floor. He didn’t break anything else that day, so the next day, first thing, he dropped the wrench again. Nothing was broken that day either, so it became a ritual. The first thing Beebe did each day was drop that wrench. He never broke another piece of glassware.  

Bud Bickford was from Oklahoma City and he lived with his parents. Bud’s folks were having a hard time, and Bud helped them as much as he could. After he got acquainted with Don, he invited him to share his room. It was a good deal for both of them. Bud made a little rent money for his parents and Don got a cheap room.   

Don and Bud became good friends. Bud had a degree in chemical engineering from OU, and he was the chemist at Peppers’ lab. He was smart and dissatisfied with his job at Peppers though, as was Don after he had worked there for a while. They spent their spare time trying to think of ways to get away from Peppers and make it big. One of their ideas came when they learned that oil had been found on the island of Aruba. They dreamed of buying a little land there and lying out on the beach while the oil flowed in. It’s just as well that they didn’t though. After the start of WWII Aruba was taken over by the Germans, who were also interested in the oil there. 

Bud had gone to high school in Oklahoma City, and he got together regularly with his classmates. Naturally he took Don along with him. One of the girls in Bud’s high school class was Jeannette Moore, whose mother had been my uncle Haskell’s secretary at the state capital. My mother Wenonah had become friends with Jeannette, so she met Don and Bud during one of their visits with Jeannette.

Wenonah had taken an education class at OU, and some of the OU football players were in it. They were rude and arrogant and definitely made a bad impression on her. It wasn’t long before Don found out what she thought of athletes - my mother was never shy about expressing her opinions, so he didn’t tell her that he had played basketball at OU.  

Peppers had a softball team and Don soon became their star player and coach. Wenonah told me once about going to one of his games. She said that it was as though she were watching a different person. Instead of the mild mannered, shy person she knew, he was aggressive, running around shouting instructions to the other players. He seemed to be making most of the scores too.  

I have a team photo of Don with Peppers’ soft ball team. It has always made me laugh. You can see patches of sweat on some of the other players’ tee shirts, but Don’s shirt is totally saturated.  

 

Peppers' Softball Team, League Champs, 1939

Finding a Job

During Don’s senior year at OU he began to think about getting a job. His major up to that point had been office management, and after visiting a few businesses he discovered that no one was interested in hiring a fresh college graduate as a manager, regardless of his degree, so Don changed his major to accounting. He talked with his counselor and discovered that it would take him another year to get the required credits, and it wouldn’t be easy because the courses would all be upper division.  

Meanwhile Don was losing his roommate. His brother Boyd was graduating from law school and getting married to Eleanor Adderhold, the Kappa girl that Don had coached on how to use her elbows playing basketball. Boyd and Eleanor were going to New Orleans on their honeymoon and had invited Don to go along. It would be a nice break, but then Don would have to find a better job. He couldn’t support himself any longer by delivering laundry. There were no athletic scholarships in the ‘30’s.  

I know. It’s pretty funny that Boyd and Eleanor invited Don to go with them on their honeymoon, but that’s just what they did. When I asked Don why, he said, “ Well, it was a nice trip. I guess they just thought I should have a chance to go along too.”

 

Boyd and Eleanor in 1838

 

The next problem was finding a job. Up to that time playing basketball had taken a lot of Don’s time and energy, and he had also relied a lot on Boyd’s resourcefulness to support the two of them, but now Boyd had a wife to support so Don was on his own.  

It was hard for Don to find a job in Norman because of all the college students needing work. He had gone to Coach McDermott during the second semester of his senior year for help. The coach had cosigned a loan for him for $80. $30 for the second semester, and $50 for summer school. McDermott told Don that he would be retiring as basketball coach after the next season to take the job of athletic director, and then he might be able to offer Don a job on the basketball coaching staff, but at the time being there were no jobs open.  

Don’s father was also trying to get him a job, asking his customers if any of them were hiring. Grandfather’s shop was right off the town square, and every man in town got his hair cut there. They all knew Don too, if not from high school, at least from his years as a star at OU. Finally Grandfather found a man who agreed to talk to Don about a job. His name was Peppers.  

Mr. Peppers lived in Enid, but he owned a gasoline refinery in Oklahoma City. He told Grandfather to send Don over to talk with him. After Don talked with Peppers he was excited. He had been open about wanting to become an accountant, but Peppers told him that was no problem, that he would transfer him to his accounting department when he got his degree. 

 

So Don went to work in the plant. Here’s a picture of Don with Mr. Peppers at a softball game. I have a feeling that Peppers may have had the idea in the back of his mind that Don would be a good addition to the company softball team:

 

Don and C. C. Peppers, 1938

 

For the next year Don worked nights at Peppers' refinery in Oklahoma City, and then drove to Norman to go to school during the days. It was a grueling schedule. The work at Peppers was dangerous too. Don had to inspect and maintain the pipes which carried liquid and gaseous petroleum products. There could be an explosion at any time. He also had climb into the big oil tanks which were sometimes filled with deadly fumes.   

Don didn’t tell me about all the dangers of working at Peppers’ plant, but he did tell me about one terrifying experience he had there. He was working the night shift as usual and it was raining. The rain was coming down hard and it was difficult to see, but over the sound of the wind and thunder he could hear the roar of an engine, so he went out to investigate. It was a big oil tanker bringing in a load of oil to be refined.  

Don could tell that the tanker was going to have trouble because there was a power line that crossed the road about half way up the road to the plant. When the weather was good they would have a man climb up on the trucks to lift the wires up high enough to clear the tanks. It was dangerous work at any time but today on the wet slippery surface of the tanker it seemed like suicide, but the plant manager said they had to unload the oil that night, so one on the workers was chosen to climb up on the tank to lift the wires. Luckily it wasn’t Don.  

As Don watched, the man inched his way along the top of the truck, holding the power line up with a tree branch. Suddenly his feet slipped. He fell on the tanker, and as he did he lost his grip on the branch and the power line fell across his chest. There was a flash of light, and then the man slid off the truck to the ground, dead. Don had nightmares about it for years.

 Don at Peppers Refinery, 1938

 

 

 

Don Finishes Out His College Basketball Career

We kind of take basketball for granted nowadays, but when Don played, the sport was relatively new. Basketball as a college sport started at Kansas University in 1898, where the originator of the game, James Naismith, became the first collegiate basketball coach. Naismith’s successor, Forrest “Phog” Allen, now considered the father of basketball coaches, was still the coach at KU when Don played. Under Allen the Jayhawks won 24 conference championships and three national titles. Since OU and KU were in the same conference, Don played against Kansas every year. At the same time, the coach at Oklahoma A & M, OU’s rival, was Henry “Hank” Iba, also no slouch. He was the first college basketball coach to win two national championships, and also the first coach to win two Olympic championships. Mike Krzyzewski was the second, but he did it with professional players.

Don alternated with Herman “Red” Nelson playing center his junior year. Red Nelson was from Norman Oklahoma, and when I attended college there, I roomed at his mother’s house. Here is a newspaper clipping and picture of Red from 1935.

 

Herman "Red" Nelson, 1935

Don played on the first string his sophomore, junior and senior years, and during that time the team got better, winning the conference championship his senior year, 1936-37. The reason he played guard part time was because he was  fast and good on defense. Don was the team captain his senior year, and he was a key to their championship. By that time he played center full time because of his height, and his ability to jump and to pass. When OU played Kansas State that last year, Don was the hero of the game, scoring the final basket clinch the victory. OU won the conference championship that year. Here’s a newspaper photo of him from 1935.

 

 

Don Gunning, 1935

The next year was Coach McDermott’s last year as OU’s coach. That was the year they changed the rule requiring a jump ball between scores. McDermott was against the rule change, but his fast break strategy continued to work, and earned his last team the nickname, “The Boy Scats.” Don was against the change too, in spite of ingrown toe nails and having to jump against centers three or four inches taller than him. I remember him grousing about it when I was little, saying that they would never be able to take away the advantage of the big man in basketball. He was right about that, but the jump ball was abused too. I read that in one game an especially tall center just tipped the ball to himself to run the clock out.   

Don graduated in 1937 so he wasn't on Coach McDermott's last team, but he did play in the alumna game. I still have Don’s Letter Blanket for basketball. He had one for track too. Wenonah used to put one of them on top of my bed covers on cold nights.

 

Don Makes the Team

Oklahoma University basketball squad, 1937

Don is third from the left in the back row.

Don had to overcome obstacles in his athletic career all along the way. I mentioned before that he broke his arm in high school and didn’t make the football team until his senior year. It seems like about half the notes in his sophomore year book, even the ones from girls, are consoling him because of his failure to make the team. But he did make the team his senior year, and was so good they tried to flunk him so that he could play for another year.  

Don’s college career didn’t start out much better. He went out for basketball instead of football in college, which made sense because he was really tall. 6 feet 4 inches doesn’t seem that tall now, but at the time he was the tallest man to go out for the team. In spite of his height though, he got no encouragement from Coach Hugh McDermott, who told him that he had no potential, and that he might as well stay at home. By his sophomore year he had made the team.

 

The game of basketball was different then. There was no shot clock in those days, so there was more passing, and players waited to shoot until they thought they had a sure thing. No one dunked the ball, and there were no extra points for shooting longer shots. Don said that a player would have been taken out of the game for attempting what’s now a three pointer. Scores were lower then. A winning score was often less than 50 points. 

Even without dunking, height was still important in the early days of basketball. Not only did it matter in shooting and guarding, but there was a jump ball after each point. Since Don played center it was up to him to get the ball for his team on the "tip." Even though Don was the tallest man on OU’s team, most of the centers at other schools were taller than him. He often played against men who were six feet seven or eight. It was also up to Don to jump for rebounds. He said that it took several years after he stopped playing basketball for his feet to heal, because his opponents would step on his toes to keep him from jumping.  

Basketball doesn't have the reputation for being as rough a sport as football does, but it can be rough, and it was in Don's day as well. He told me about a "hot shot" freshman rookie who charged up toward the basket during one of his first practices. Don taught him a lesson by raising his arm to block him. The boy was knocked off his feet by the collision and lost a tooth as well. Don said that another time they were playing at OSU and one of his team mates was hit as he jumped up for a rebound. He was knocked into the bleachers by the blow and as his body fell between the seats his scrotum was torn on a nail. 

Don's sophomore year, his first year on the team, was a tough year for him. OU's team was improving. That year they beat their arch rival, Oklahoma A and M, now known as Oklahoma State University. Don said the rivalry between the two Oklahoma schools was so bitter that when OU played at A & M, lettermen would stand along the sidelines of the basketball court, and if one of the OU players stepped out of bounds he would have to start swinging his fists to fight his way back onto the court. Luckily the game against A & M was at OU his first year. 

After the A & M game, the Sooners' winning streak continued in two back to back games against Missouri. The games were on Friday and Saturday night. Don fell on his right arm during the second Missouri game, and it was hurting and swollen the next Tuesday when the team played the first game of a double header against Kansas University in Lawrence, Kansas. Don didn't know it yet, but his arm had been broken by the fall. He played the first game anyway. The afternoon before the second game he wrote a letter home to his parents. It was Jan 16, 1935:  

Hotel Eldridge

Lawrence, Kansas                                                     Wednesday

Dear Folks

          Well we played K U last night and they beat us 50 to 23. That is the worst O U has been beaten in a long time. They sure have a good team but they are pretty old and a lot bigger than we are. My man weighs 205# and is about 23 years old. Our team didn’t play near as good as usual. Browning only made one bucket. We play them again tonight and we’ll be in Norman at 8:30 in the morning.

          I fell on my right arm pretty hard in the Missouri game and it is swelled at the elbow about twice its normal size and it sure is sore and stiff. I got to play all but the last two minutes of the game last night but my arm was so sore I couldn’t do much. I made 1 basket, 1 personal foul, and 1 free shot, and I got the tip half the time. I couldn’t straighten my arm clear out or I would have got it all the time. I don=t know whether I’ll get to play any tonight or not, Browning says I can’t, but I think McDermott will let me play some. (“Browning” was Bud Browning, who was a year older than Don and was the star of the team that year. He was also from Enid High, so he and Don were friends. Hugh McDermott, the coach, didn’t let Don play in the next game. He sent him to the doctor as soon as they got back to Norman, and the doctor told Don that he had a broken arm.)

          Browning and I got a telegram from Miller, McCoy, Miss Morrow, and Miss Nellie Moore congratulating us on our Missouri games. They are all high school teachers. I guess that=s all now. I’ll let you know if my elbow gets any worse.

Love Don 

The broken arm put an end to Don’s basketball season, and after the cast was removed he couldn’t straighten out his arm. My uncle Jay said that Don carried a bucket of sand around  that winter to force his arm to straighten out. By springtime he was feeling well enough go out for track, and his arm was strong enough that he placed third in the javelin throw at the Big Six track meet in May.

 

 

My Proudest Moment

My dad didn’t talk to me much about his sports career, and he never encouraged me to pursue any sport myself. It’s not that he wasn’t supportive. He would play catch with me, both with a baseball and a football. I already mentioned how amazed I was that he could throw a football, even without a thumb on his right hand. He built me a basketball goal on the garage and would play with me and show me how to shoot. As I got older and got interested in bowling and tennis, he’d go out and play those sports with me. I enjoyed watching him play. He moved with graceful, rapid movements, and could change directions quickly so you couldn’t anticipate which way he was turning, especially in basketball. 

Don never “exercised” though. He didn't walk or jog, lift weights or do sit ups. He would play golf or bowl with the people he worked with, and was always able to stay competitive with them, and with me, even as he got older, and he didn’t boast or seek any special status because of his accomplishments in sports. It didn’t seem important to him. It was as though it was something he had done in his youth, but was no longer relevant.   

Don did volunteer to “coach” my little league baseball team, halfheartedly. He would stand on the sidelines with the other coaches, and while the others would shout instructions to their sons, and push to get them in the starting lineup, Don just calmly watched the game. It’s not that I was all that competitive in sports myself. I realized that I wasn’t as strong, as coordinated, or as fast as most of my classmates, but I was intensely proud of my dad’s achievements, and I thought he should get more respect.  

There was one time that I got to gloat a little over Don’s prowess though. It was at a company picnic. I must have been 9 or 10 years old. He and Jim and I had eaten our picnic lunch and we were walking around the area, visiting with Don’s associates. The organizers of the picnic had set up some activities to entertain us, and I remember one that was simply a sledge hammer. Men would grip the sledge hammer at the end of the long handle, and try to raise the mallet end without lifting their hand from the ground. We stood there watching men try and fail, one after another. No one could do it. I begged Don to try, and finally he reached down and easily lifted the mallet.  

As we continued to walk around the park, we came upon some men playing softball. They were playing workup. That’s where you start with a group of batters, and a group of fielders. When one of the batters is put out, one of the fielders comes in to bat, and the other fielders work their way up through the positions until they get to bat too. Anyway we watched for a while, and I begged Don to play. I wanted to see him in action.   

Don said he wasn’t interested. I continued to beg though, and after a while I created enough commotion to get the attention of the men who were playing. They invited Don to play, but he turned them down, saying that he didn’t want to leave his family alone while he played softball. After that they conferred with each other, and then invited Don to bat without having to work his way up from the field, so he reluctantly agreed.  

I remember the experience as though it were yesterday. Jim and I were standing behind home plate as the pitcher pitched the ball to Don. Don swung on the first pitch. “Strike one!” The pitcher threw the ball again. “Strike two!” But the next time the pitcher threw the ball, Don didn’t swing. I think he had finally gotten serious. “Ball one.” Said the referee. Then the pitcher threw the ball right down the middle. Don swung the third time and connected.

The ball soared straight over the pitcher’s head, over the second baseman, over the center fielder, and landed in the bushes behind the playing field.  

Don didn’t run around the bases. He just calmly put down the bat, and walked back to join us.